Merry Christmas to all...........

It's nice having Janice at home.......
usually the dogs sleep with Natti and me.

From FlatIron Mike

Sweet!

Tractor?

Holy crap this thing is a monster. I fuckin' like it!
Stolen from KustomKing Blog

My best friends.........

Memories of an old man...

You have no idea how much I wished she was singing to me.....

The first bike I ever crashed.............

My Uncle Jerry had a 1965 250cc Yamaha Big Bear Scrambler, and he was cool enough to let me borrow it to go to a basketball game one night. We all had bikes back then, but the biggest of the lot was Tommy Joe Davis' Yammer 125. I felt like one of the big guys that night. I took a few of my friends for rides on it. One of them, Terry Potterton as I recall, got a little extra thrill. I took a curve about two clicks above my skill level and showed him the ditch. Told my uncle that a car ran me off the road.



A while later, I had a friend that lived about 5 country miles down the road from me who had a Yamaha 305 Catalina. The first two stroke twin I ever saw with expansion chamber exhaust (not like the one pictured). He had done some other mods to it, but I was too dumb at the time to remember what he said he had done to it. It was freakin fast for it's time and place in the world, Northern Arkansas Ozarks, right in the middle of Hillbilly land. When I was outside waiting for the school bus, I could sometimes hear him fire that bastard up getting ready to go to work. Yes, it was loud!!


The local Yamaha dealership in Golden Missouri had a Yamaha 250 Ascot that they had modified for drag racing. There weren't any organized scrambles or any other motorcycle racing around there at the time, so drag racing was the only gig in town. They had a pretty impressive array of trophies that they took home with this bike.

Catalina GP - Yamaha film 1958

The last time this happened was in 1958......

That's right ladies and gentlemen, the Catalina Grand Prix motorcycle races will be a happening this weekend. Through the streets of Avalon and over the trails of the tiny island, the roar of motorcycles will resume after a 50+ year hiatus. Wish I could go....

We lost an Icon yesterday.....

Rest in peace Leslie Nielsen

Interesting....

Click on image to shrink to viewable size..
From Hippy Killer Garage.

SLO Ride video from Dice Magazine Blog

SLO from J.D. King on Vimeo.

Husqvarna Racer 1934

Pretty cool lookin' scooter from the Yohan Urban Blog

Some little bugger has been busy in my back yard....

If ya just gotta ride a Japper...........

You could do worse than this....
Stolen from Greasy Kulture

Nice Ironhead from LowLevelHell

Love a neat clean Ironhead. Too bad I'm not a better mechanic...I'd have one too!

Stolen from Theemissinglinks blog

I gots a soft spot in my heart for trick Trumps, specially pre-units!

John Stewart's "Rally for Sanity"

....News organizations like the Washington Post and NPR have argued the latter, telling their employees to avoid "participating" in the rally, sometimes even going so far as to forbid reporters from attending unless they are covering the event.

Fortunately, someone else finds this back-bending objectivity as humorous as NewsFeed does. In a hilarious open memo to the paper's staff, Washington City Paper Editor Michael Schaeffer gives some ludicrously specific guidelines on how employees should cover the event:

1. You may attend the rallies in a non-participatory fashion.

2. However, because the rallies are comic events, you may not laugh.

3. The act of not laughing, though, can be just as politically loaded as the act of laughing. Therefore, staffers are advised to politely chuckle, in a non-genuine manner, after each joke.

[...]

6. If no non-verbal cues for laughter are available, please observe audience members around you. If they are laughing, imitate their laughter with a non-genuine polite chuckle. If they are not laughing, remain stone-faced. Whatever you do, do not apply your own personal cognitive skills to determining the humorousness of any particular clip. Such an approach exposes us to charges of bias.

7. On the other hand, a situation could arise where partisan foes of the Comedy Central hosts laugh at them in a derisive manner unrelated to the timing of their on-stage jokes. In this case, your failure to join in the mockery could potentially be interpreted as a sign that you disagree with the derision—an equally distasteful indication of bias. Please follow the above guidelines and also chuckle politely, but not genuinely, at any instances of counter-comedy.

From the Asphalt Squadron.......

We have a shit ton of giveaways from the vendors listed...put it this way, we have enough items to have a raffle about every 7 minutes! From tee shirts, to spool hubs, to helmets, to battery trays, to....pix to follow, stay tuned.

Thanks for your support!

Never-Readys'
Inland Empire

More on Burt Munro and Indian #35....

Into this picture came Burt Munro, proud owner, driver, chief mechanic and sole member of the Munro Special Racing Team of Invercargill, New Zealand. I immediately sensed there was something extraordinary about this cheerful septuagenarian and his fifty-year-old motorbike—no matter that it appeared to be partially held together by duct tape and bungee cord. Over the years Munro had won reluctant concessions from S.C.T.A. safety inspectors to run his bike on the salt; however this time around, because of a new regulation, officials refused to pass on Burt’s aquadynamic “goldfish” faring. As a result, Burt would be racing this day “naked”, with no crash protection other than his open-face Bell helmet, black leather jacket, and a pair of loose-fitting green leather pants on loan from Kawasaki racer Bently Conway.

I make more exceptions for you than anybody,” said chief referee Earl Flanders as he examined Burt’s machine while jotting notes on a clipboard. “When ya gonna wash it?”

“Wash it? Why?” responded Burt.

“When ya gonna wash it?”

“Wash it with water?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I ‘aven’t ‘ad time to polish mine. It’s been nine months and nine days on that engine last year, and three minutes to three on a Saturday six weeks ago I got it to run right. New cylinders, new pistons, new cam rod, new cams—eight of ‘em—eight new pistons, new valves, all new eccentric tappets and guides. I wasn’t idle. I had three hours off on Christmas Day. In the middle of the day, when they eat.”

By now a small crowd of curious onlookers had gathered round. An ugly duckling amidst a flock of sleek and shiny racing machines, the Munro Special did not exactly inspire awe.

“I wouldn’t drive that thing on the street,” said one bystander. “Let alone out here.”

Fact is, Burt Munro had ridden his motorcycle on the streets, on the beach, on flat tracks, on and off pavement, up and down hills. Since the age of 21, he’d been winning races and setting speed records in his native New Zealand, while racking up a lengthy list of injuries. Amazingly, for half a century he’d been racing the same bike!

Between races and crashes and countless engine blowups, Munro had spent years rebuilding and modifying his machine. In order to fund his obsession, he rented out his house and lived in a cinderblock shed. There he added an overhead cam to the Indian’s original flathead V-twin, machined his own cylinders from seasoned gas pipe, cast his own pistons and fabricated connecting rods from a Caterpillar tractor axle. He’d crossed the Pacific on a tramp steamer, bought a beater car in Los Angeles, fabricated a trailer, driven across the Great Basin to western Utah, determined to see just what his beloved Indian Scout could do on the world’s fastest track.

Presently it came time to put Burt’s machine to the test.







Ker-flush, ker-flush, ker-flush. It was a strange sound that issued from the V-twin’s dual exhaust pipes. Stretched prone atop the bike’s elongated frame, Burt called for a push. A hard push!

Ker-flush, ker-flush, ker-flush. The engine could scarcely fire at idle; however, as it gathered speed the flushing sound gave way to a throaty staccato. A quarter mile down the track, its rider already a speck on the horizon, the Munro Special was beginning to find its rhythm. Then, in a flash, it was gone.

“You live more in five minutes flat out on a bike like this than most people do in a lifetime,” declares Sir Anthony Hopkins, who stars as Munro in the film “The World’s Fastest Indian.” But the machine Hopkins rides in the movie is just a replica; the real Munro Special has since become a venerated artifact—and Burt Munro, who died of natural causes in 1978, an international folk hero.

In all, Burt Munro made ten trips to Bonneville. In 1967, at the age of 67, he set a standing land speed record of 185.586 mph—on a machine with an original top speed of 55.

-Richard Menzies

More for Marshall....

When I was stationed at Barbers Point, Hawaii, a friend had one of these. I wanted one soooooo bad!!

"SLO Vintage Bike Show"....

Burt Munro's "World's Fastest Indian" 1920 Scout, unfortunately restored to way beyond anything Burt ever touched.


Moto Guzzi... This thing has some interesting suspension, and what appears to be an external flywheel...?




Pretty tough lookin little Yammer...


Ducati..


1970 Boattail Sporty...



For Marshall


As General Custer was famous for saying..."Holy shit!! Look at all those Indians."










I fuckin love this Trump!!!

My 1934 Ford truck................

Not quite the feat as Rowdy's PT Pickup, but I built it myself. Had to sell it after about 6 months of unemployment a few years ago. Just stumbled on the pic and decided to share.

Watched this DVD tonight......

AWESOME....still

What do my wife and Jakemon's mom have in common?.......COOKIN' !!!.

Went for a ride on my bike on Saturday. When I got home, Natti sez "Go to Home Depot and get me a torch. Right NOW!!!"

I fell in love all over again. I mean....{all that...and she wants a torch} Tears of joy filled my eyes...

I go to the De-Pot and pick up a nice propane torch with a piezo starter thang, take it home and retire to the garage to be with my baby (the bike). I crack a brew and ponder.... what the fuck does she want with a torch???....?

Raspberry Gratin, she calls it..........OMG!!

SLO Ride

Sponsored by Blue Collar Moto

Jimi paints tins for Biltwell..........

and gets some good publicity in the process. Read about it at http://www.biltwellinc.com

Mrs Hardly Dangerous is cookin'.....

Her locally famous chicken parm. I've had Wolfgang Puck's chicken parm in Las Vegas, and it has NOTHING on Natti's. If you have never tried hers, there is a little something missing from your life experience!

For the full story go to......

http://quadcambastards.blogspot.com

DJ and Rowdy have a little get together.

for a poker run and some Sling Blade breakfast. Rowdy's garage built PickupTruck is amazing!

A few more cc's...........

of silicone, and I swear they would explode!

Hardly Dangerous took "Belle Dame" to the Santa Maria Harley Bike night for one reason.....to get a little tuna essence on the saddle.

I must add: the guy in the Big Bore pic is not me. In retrospect, I should have photoshopped myself in, but I'm too lazy now.